“over the river and thru the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go...” how
many times we sang that song as elementary school kids, but to me it was always
special, as Grandma’s house was special, and it was over the river, the Delaware
crossing into Pennsylvania, and through the woods, the wonderful farm fields and
woods that defined the foothills to the Poconos. And singing it as Thanksgiving
kicked off the holiday season, it was many a Thanksgiving spent at Grandma’s
that were always special. We would always leave that Wednesday after school,
for the hour long drive, arriving just as Grandpa got home, and dinner was
ready. But already the house was ablaze with smells and sights of the next
day. The dining room table would be covered with pies just baked, and they
would have to wait until tomorrow. And after the evening playing with the trains
in the basement, our 4 day vacation celebration had begun.
Waking up at Grandma’s always meant Kermie’s sausage, starting a t 5 am.
The best sausage, in a big ring, and served up with eggs, potatoes, and homemade
strawberry jam...what a way to start the day with fresh squeezed OJ too. Eating
as if there was no dinner to follow. And as the cooking had already begun,
Grandma was kept busy all day, except listening to the Bangor-Pen Argyl football
game on the radio. Football was so big in this area, that the town of 2500
filled the seats for 5000 each game-and this was the Super Bowl of the Slate
Belt, for bragging rights for the next year. Whoever won this long time rivalry
would reign supreme, even if they had lost every other game, winning this
insured a great season. And as we listened, the stories would be retold of how
the quarterback for Bangor was kidnapped one year, insuring a Pen Argyl win.
And the time some crooks went through downtown Pen Argyl cleaning out the stores
while the whole city was at the game. And how my mother had been the head
cheerleader there. My mother the cheerleader! And when the game ended, and
Bangor would win, they drove down the hill from the stadium past their house,
horns honking, banners waving, and fans yelling in victory-my Grandma standing
on the porch applauding-so many of her ex-students yelling “Hi Mrs. Mohn, we
won!” As if they had been on the field of victory themselves, with her. For
the rest of us, it only meant minutes to dinner-and turkey!
We called her Auntie Bray, her name was Lillian Bray and a neighbor and
good friend to Grandma, and I always sat next to her on Thanksgiving. She was
old, I thought of her as one of the pilgrims, and wondered why she always ate
with us instead of her family, later in life I would come to know myself why she
made the wiser choice of company. And then we would all take our places at the
table, and my Dad would say grace, and the eating began. The biggest turkey I
can ever remember, sometimes a duck too, yams, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob,
stuffing, and my Dad’s favorite oyster stuffing, only made for him on
Thanksgiving by Grandma. That special ingredient of love no one else could
duplicate. And the eating took awhile, and then dessert. Apple pie, pumpkin
pie, and shoo fly pie, so sweet it made your teeth hurt, no ice cream for these
thoroughbreds-that was for later.....and then we all sat back and rested. And
then made trays, using TV dinner trays, nothing got thrown away here, and we
each made our own for taking home, to be eaten again. Each writing our name on
the foil so we wouldn’t get confused, as if anyone could by my attempts at
wrapping. And then a sandwich before bed, sleeping sound, a great day had been
enjoyed. Bangor had won and all was right with the world...and soon I would be
smelling Kermie’s sausage again, and the fresh OJ of Grandpa. A special time
that tomorrow being Thanksgiving makes me remember. Over the river, and through
the woods, more than words to a song.
As Americans we observe the last Thursday in November each year to be
thankful. We are thankful to God, who has again blessed us with another year on
earth. Not an easy year, but one in which He is always there for us, and
continues to provide. A year in which no more open heart surgery, and I am
recovering well. Christopher is touring worldwide with his music, living his
dream. Andrew is in love with Michelle, and we cannot wait until she is part of
our family with Hidson her 3 year oldwe will be Grandparents at last-next year
we shall all be together for Thanksgiving I hope. And Theresa, my biggest
blessing, who still manages to raise her three boys, through it all. But we are
able to see Jesus in all we do, and the blessings and thanksgiving are not only
for one day in our family. We are thankful for our extended family, John
Dooley, Theresa and Kelly, who we hope will be safe and home from Afghanistan
soon,and our “grandkids” Landon and Riley, our friends at Dustin Arms, and those
who we get to share the love of Christ with. And as the years go by, many more
good memories will be added, but for now we like to look back and remember.
Over the river we go, crossing over like the Jews did into the promised land,
and through the woods, the wilderness, being led by a loving God. Who we have
tested ourselves this year with our needs that would not have been provided for
unless He intervened, for without Him we have nothing. The joy we will one day
experience when we cross that mighty river into heaven...but for now, a word of
thanks to and for all who you hold dear and love. May this day be filled with
joy, peace, friendship, and lots of love...and turkey too. But keep Jesus
first, and give thanks as He adds everything else to us...He is all we need.
And “the horse knows the way ...” So does this biker.
Happy Thanksgiving!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com